I removed a few posts from this blog earlier this week. I was deeply disturbed and frustrated that I had to do that. The posts that were removed were posts that dealt with my true feelings, hurts, and concerns about things I am currently experiencing in my life.

This post isn’t really about that though. I believe that this is an issue that goes deeper than just removing sensitive information because it made someone mad or uncomfortable. It is about more than being sensitive to one another. It is about how we treat people who are just trying to be real (When Keepin’ It Real Goes Bad). It goes back to the quote on the left side of your screen. It is about the secrets and hurts that we can’t share with one another. It is about the broken system we perpetuate.

The reality of life is that people get mad. People get angry. People hurt and people hurt one another. On paper, the way we are suppossed to deal with this is to live our lives openly without boundries or fear. Because of Christ Jesus we are free and our lives should echo that reality. We are the body of Christ. Brothers and sisters living their lives together. Off paper though, in the gritty reality of the fall, we don’t truly live this way. We are more like the CIA. We live lives of fear and silence. Of mistrust and loathing.

I was recommended a book called Distant Voices by Leonard C. Allen to help give me some perspective. It tells of the diversity within the early Restoration Movement, a fact that we in the Churches of Christ often forget to pass along in our stories. While placing this book in my online shopping cart another book caught my eye. The introduction to Tradition, Opinion, and Truth: The Emerging Church of Christ by Fred Peatross spoke directly to my hurt feelings today. In it he writes,

In the early years of my Christian walk I was influenced and convinced that Christianity was a rule-bound spirituality that emphasized external conformity rather than an inner change of the heart. Keeping the party’s elaborate system of rules was the evidence of my spirituality. As I grew older I became aware of my desire to do more. I had been cleansed of my sins and saved by grace, but I still felt bad, as if I needed to do something more. I felt that no matter what I did or accomplished, it wasn’t good enough. As I look back, I now realize that this was my first encounter with the inherited legalism of the church in which I grew up.

I continued to study the scriptures and as I did I began to see new truths. Many of my conclusions didn’t parrot the traditional interpretations of the church of Christ. I soon realized that this leagalistic Christian community I was converted in wasn’t a safe place to share my doctrinal thoughts. It was obvious that is you shared your problems, difficulties, or dysfunction you faced the real possibility of judgement rather than love and support. Same-based, perfectionist theology forces you to “keep secrets” for fear of judgement. It majors in judgement and minors in grace.

You’ll not find the church Jesus’ died for in leagalistic religion. You’ll find it in a small group of people called together by the vision of love found in Jesus. Haring a common Father, born through a common new birth, held by a common Lord, they persue a common course- the adventure of loving their neighbor as they love themselves.

As Christians, what are we about? How do we treat one another? I think we have bought in to the lie of religion. We convert to Christianity but we neglect our conversion to Christ. I am reminded of a line from the Irish theologian I am so prone to quote.

“I wanted to meet God but you sold me religion.”

What are we selling? We aren’t salesmen. We are Disciples. Let’s start introducing people to our Savior and rage against the broken machine of religion.